


Fire

by indevan



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 15:24:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7058017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indevan/pseuds/indevan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She asked her parents once to divine her fate.  She wanted to know who she would marry.  They told her that she would not be wed but that she would forever play with fire, whatever that meant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted this to be longer but my brain wouldn't let me so here we are. i'm in literal hell over this ship. just bury me.

As a child, Orochi never was able to tell her own fortune.  She felt there was too much interference, too much of herself in her cards.  She asked her parents once to divine her fate.  She wanted to know who she would marry.  They told her that she would not be wed but that she would forever play with fire, whatever that meant.

When she was little, the boys came to the palace.  Kagero had been excited for more children their age since Hana and Hinata were too young to play and Subaki’s parents never allowed him to take a break.  They came flanking their father, one shyly looking around and the other scowling at nothing.  Orochi immediately set her eyes on him, ready to strike.  She remembers delighting in the look on his face after she scared him with her fortune.  Later, she went to her room and almost stumbled onto a floor full of caltrops.  His act of revenge, as exaggerated and dramatic as he is.  Yukimura had been tasked with watching not only the royal children but them as well.  He saw the troubles they’d caused and tied their wrists together as punishment.  She would trod on his feet and he’d bite her until Yukimura separated them instead.  When he left, she’d hoped never to see him again.  She knew fate would not be so kind since she overheard the King say that one of the sons would make a fine retainer for his oldest.  She had tried to cast a spell for him to choose the shy, sweet one and not him but her mother had told her that magic didn’t work that way.

They returned several times and she saw her best friend fall in love with him.  This rude, angry, arrogant boy with hair the color of apple skins.  She saw him come back with that angry scar running through his face like a lifeline.  She wondered if she could divine his fate through it but she didn’t.  She wouldn’t.  She can see the anger more clearly now.  A bloodlust that underlies everything he says and does.  Kagero tells her he’s gentle with her, though, and tentative.  She tells her about them only after they break up.  Waking up with him, resting her head on his broad chest.  She tells her everything because that’s what they’ve always done.  She never says all the details because Kagero embarrasses easily and keeps her secrets but she can tell by the way she blushes and trails off.  They’ve told each other everything their whole lives.  Spread out on their bellies under their blankets.  They do this now, when they’re older and should know better, should behave better due to their positions but this time is theirs.  Even as war bears down on them, they continue their ritual.  Their faces pressed close and their fingers linked under a fort made of blankets.  Yet, she cannot tell Kagero this.  Not yet.  She cannot tell her about him.

He’s still a prickly, arrogant ass but now he’s hers.  She remembers when he confessed to her, having to reiterate it multiple times until she let him know that she knew.  That she had begun to feel the same way.  Since she thought about the fortune that so frightened him and realized who it had been truly meant for.  She had been afraid to go further, knowing how Kagero had felt for him.  They were over, mutually, but she still felt like she was violating some sort of unwritten code when she returned his feelings.  When he swept her into his arms and pulled his mask down so he could kiss her.  It had been some time, she’d realized, since she’d seen the whole of his face.  He and his brother were both attractive--which was why he wore the mask in the first place--but she had forgotten.  Not just because of the mask but how his brow is always furrowed in anger or concentration.  When they kissed, his hands went to the small of her back, just above the low-lying waistband of her trousers.

“Getting handsy already are we?” she’d said with a giggle.

When he’d blushed, she had taken his hands and brought them lower.  It got easier after that.  Things flowed naturally in ways even she couldn’t predict.  She wasn’t Kagero.  She hadn’t trained with him before she took him to bed.  His body was as new to her as hers was to him.  And yet it wasn’t as awkward or stilted as she thought.  It took some coaxing for him to let go--to let go but not boil over--but once he did, she saw stars.

She taught him what she liked and introduced him to things he didn’t know he liked.  And yet no one knows.  She thinks that people might hear her--or him when she wears down that resolve and gets him to moan so loudly she thinks he’ll bring the walls down.

“It’s impressive,” she says one night when they lie together.  She presses her ear to his chest to listen to his heartbeat return to normal. “How I can make all that training unravel with just a flick of my fingers.”

He makes a grumbling noise deep in his throat that tickles her ear.  She turns her head so her chin is on his chest and smiles up at him.

“What?” he asks.

She reaches down and splays her fingers below his navel, her pinkie idly twisting the coarse, dark red hairs above his cock.

“I never thought I’d be in love with you,” she says.

She studies his face in low lamplight in her room and sees it shift.  It’s softer, sometimes, when they’re together.  He isn’t so bristly.  She remembers one night of him actually laughing when he held her to him.  His laugh is a rare treasure and, despite herself, she mentally captured it so she can hear it on a bad day when battles were rough and losses were high.

“That makes me feel good.” The sarcasm almost drips from his words as he speaks them.

“It should.  I know so many things about you and still want to be with you.”

He makes another grumbling noise and she inches her hand down even further.  She licks her lips.

“Say my name.” She wraps her hand around him.

His brow furrows.

“Why?  You won’t say mine.”

This is the downside to his resolve.  She can’t just put her hand on his cock and get the result she wants.  Orochi squeezes her hand and sees him bite his lip.  Still hanging on even though this is round two.  She pumps her hand slowly and watches his face twitch.

“Or-o-chi,” she says teasingly.

She’s mostly joking.  She doesn’t care what he says and most of his moans are just indecipherable cries that cut through the hot, still air of her room.  Still, sometimes she wants to hear her name released from his lips in the throes of passion.  It’s a selfish little want, especially when she doesn’t say his.  When he’s inside her, moving with her, she bites her lip and lets only mewls and whines out.  She doesn’t say his name and she doesn’t say the poetry that comes to her head about how well he fits inside her.  How well he knows her body in such a short time.

He reaches down and gently lifts her hand from him.  Peels away and gets to his feet.

“Lie down.”

Orochi cocks a brow at him. “Ahem?”

In the dim light, she can see him blush.

“Please.”

She smiles and lies back on the bed.  He stands over her and she watches the flickering light cast shadows on the segments of his stomach.  His face is uncovered and his hair is messy and in his face.  The shadows carve out his cheekbones and seep into his scar.  He crawls back on the bed and kneels down at her bent legs.  Orochi spreads her thighs and tosses him a coy look.  His face goes between her legs and she feels the first sweep of his tongue.  She isn’t sure where he picked this up (she doesn’t want to think too hard about the “who”) but he’s very talented in this regard.

He braces his hands on her thighs as he increases his speed.  He teases her clit with his tongue and she doesn’t look at him anymore since she drops her head onto the pillow.

“S...S…” she starts.  She feels the first shudders of orgasm begin and her muscles tense.

His fingers dig into her thighs as he increases his pace.  It’s almost too fast but that’s always him.  Either boiling over or almost there.

“Saizo!” she cries so loud and so clear that someone has to hear it.

He pulls back and his cheeks shine in the almost burnt down lamps.

“I got you to say it,” he says this so deadpan that she almost doesn’t catch the gloat on the end of his words.

She sits up, breathless, and flicks some hair from her face.

“So you win,” she says. “Give me a second and then I can give you your prize.”

He smiles in the dark, a smile she likes to think is reserved only for her.  Orochi never understood what her parents meant when they said she would forever play with fire but now, with him, she begins to understand.


End file.
